


The Morning After

by Ironkhaleesi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:17:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7449346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironkhaleesi/pseuds/Ironkhaleesi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Dean have been dating for a long time, but after Bobby died things started to go down hill. Dean became aggressive. He started drinking more and picking fights where none existed. Then one night - after a hunt goes wrong - Dean ends up in another one of his drunken spirals and says things to you that he can never take back. He wakes up in the morning - expecting to kiss and make up - only to find you gone and Sam berating him before chasing after you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You slammed the door of the Impala in a huff. Dean stumbled out of the back in a drunken mess, while Sam gingerly pulled himself from the driver’s side, looking as though he would much rather lock himself in there than follow the two of you into the motel room. The gravel crunched and slid under your boots as you stomped towards the room, so much so that you had to catch yourself a couple times when you lost your balance. You damned the ground to hell, then you damned the owner of the motel for being too cheap to buy asphalt. 

Of course, you weren’t really angry at the owner and their landscaping choices. You were angry at Dean. Make that royally pissed. A routine vamp nest clean-up had gone wrong after a pack of werewolves teamed up with them and ambushed the three of you. None of you had gotten seriously hurt, but you’d all had to tuck tail and run. In retaliation, and mostly because they thought they were invincible now having won the first fight against you and the Winchesters, something that rarely happened, the vampires and werewolves had gone out on a ‘special’ killing spree. One that had thrown the small town into a frenzied witch hunt as they tried to hunt down the murderous psychopath that was slaughtering their friends and family. 

None of you could have predicted what had happen, but apparently, after having gone to a bar to drown your wounds in alcohol, Dean felt as though the entire incident had been your fault. And he’d been none too polite about it. 

“What are you even doing here?” Dean half growled, half slurred behind you. Your shoulders tensed in irritation, but you focused on making it into the hotel room. You’d be damned if you were going to make a spectacle of yourself in the parking lot of a backwash, hick motel. 

“Dean,” Sam said softly behind you. “It’s not her fault. None of us could have known that the vamps and werewolves were going to Brady Bunch it. It’s never happened before.”

“She should have known that it could happen!” he snapped as he rounded on his brother.

You stopped in your tracks and spun to face him screaming, “Are you serious?!” Even Sam had an incredulous look on his face as he looked at Dean.

“Yeah, I’m serious!” Dean yelled, spinning back to you now that he’d gotten your attention. “You said it yourself back at the bar! You’ve been researching and tracking that nest’s movements for almost a month. You should’ve known. Now there’s a bloodbath going on out there, and it’s because of you!”

“Fuck you, Dean!” You kicked yourself for how pitiful that sounded. Tears were thickening in your throat and you wished that you had a logical argument that would leave him dumbfounded and looking like the asshole that he was being. But you didn’t have one. You knew, realistically, that the nest must have known someone was tracking them and so were more careful about their little cross-species rendezvous, but you still found it difficult to swallow the notion that you’d been outsmarted by vamps. But beating yourself up about it didn’t mean that Dean had the right to call you out on it either. He was supposed to support you. Tell you that it wasn’t your fault even if you insisted that it was. That’s what boyfriends did. Hell, that was what friends did. But right now he wasn’t acting like either one of those. 

“That’s unfair, Dean,” Sam said. He was still being reasonable, but you could hear the roughness build in his voice that let you know he was getting angrier by the second. You hadn’t been the only one landing on the wrong side of Dean’s temper lately. You’d both let it slide at first. Bobby had just died and you all took it pretty hard, it wasn’t a surprise when Dean used anger to work through his crap. Even you had taken to using anger as your safety blanket, Bobby had been the man that raised you, after all. He was your father in every sense but blood. But now it was getting out of hand. Now he was purposely hurting the people around him, the people he was supposed to love. 

“Is it?” Dean said, but he was still looking at you when he did. You swallowed and took a step back, because right now he wasn’t yelling, right now he was using a low, cold voice, and you knew he was about to say something cruel. “Think about it Sam. If she was better at her job than none of this would have happened. The vamps and werewolves would be dead, all those people would still be alive.” He pointed a finger at you and growled, in the most vicious manner that he could, “If you were better at your job than Bobby would still be alive.”

“Dean!” Sam snapped as he roughly pushed his brother, almost knocking him to ground. 

Your head snapped back in shock. It took a moment to process what he’d said, but when you did your entire body flooded with violent rage. You shook with the force of it. Your fists curled tightly in on themselves until your nails cut into the skin of your palm, your muscles tensed as your body prepared itself to fight. You even took a step forward, ready to pummel into the drunk, flannel clad, dick face in front of you. But then you stopped. You stopped and you looked at Dean and you realised that you just couldn’t do it anymore. You were out of steam. You didn’t have the energy to maintain this relationship any longer. You were tired of trying to salvage it when he was bent on derailing it. You were tired of cleaning him up only to have him go and roll in the mud again. You were tired of yelling, and screaming, and crying, and trying to show him that he wasn’t the only one that was hurting. You were tired of trying so you stopped trying. In that moment, right then and there, you made the decision to stop trying. 

The thought actually seemed to relax you. You were still angry, sure, still on the verge of tears. But you’d given up. You no longer had the resources to utilise those emotions. Your shoulders slumped and your hands fell open. You felt your face go blank of everything, as though someone flicked a switch and you’d just stopped feeling. That wasn’t true, of course, you still felt, it was just that no one could tell what it was that you felt. You were a blank canvas. 

You looked at Sam. Realisation filled his face, as though he knew what you were going to do before even you did. He said your name, softly, endearingly as he took a step towards you and reached out. You had a moment to wonder why you hadn’t fallen in love with him instead of his brother, but it didn’t matter now. It was too late to jump ship and change sides. You looked at Dean, he was swaying on his feet, eyes blood shot and muscles loose as he sneered at you. 

“That’s right,” he growled, “go back to being the Ice Queen. I liked you better like that anyway.” 

You turned on your heel and headed back towards the motel room. A meaty smack and grunt echoed through the semi-vacant lot, and you knew that Sam had just done what you’d been itching to do mere moments ago. 

****

Dean woke up briefly in the middle of the night, though a groggy look at the clock showed that it was 3:38 in the morning. He rolled over to go back to sleep, gingerly touching the sore spot on his jaw where Sam had punched him, and got a glance of you and Sam outside through the window. He seemed to be pleading with you, a large hand wrapped around your upper arm as though you’d pull away from him, but when you did pull away he let you go. Dean wouldn’t have, he would have held on tighter and yanked you back to him, not caring if he bruised you or not. But that was the difference between him and his brother. 

As he watched, Dean thought that you would have taken the opportunity to leave when you broke free of Sam’s grip, but you didn’t. Rather, you brought your hands up to your face as your shoulders began to shake. You weren’t much of a crier, Dean had only seen you cry one other time when Bobby died, but looking at the familiar way that Sam wrapped you up in his arms and stroked a hand down your hair as he cooed in your ear, he thought that maybe you cried just as much as everyone else. Maybe he had never seen it because you always cried into Sam’s shoulder. Then he wondered if the reason you hadn’t cried into his shoulder was because he’d always been the one to make you cry.  
His mind was still too hazy to really connect those dots and make sense of it, so he rolled to his other side and fell back to sleep. Telling himself that he’d apologise in the morning. You always forgave him. 

****  
Sam sat at the table staring into nothing. It was 10 in the morning and Dean was just waking up, but Sam hadn’t been to bed yet. He couldn’t sleep, even if he tried. Dean scrubbed a hand over his face as he sat up and looked around the room.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asked groggily. 

Sam scoffed and sneered at his brother. “Why? You want to tell her again that she’s the reason her dad’s dead?”

“I didn’t mean it,” Dean muttered in response as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

Sam shook his head in disgust at the lack of remorse in Dean’s voice. “She’s gone, Dean. Has been for five and half hours now.”

“Gone? What do you mean she’s gone?” Dean snapped, his ever present anger rising in the tone of his voice.

“I mean that you screwed up this time. Y/N’s gone. And she’s not coming back.” Sam stood up and glowered down at his brother. 

“She wouldn’t just up and leave,” Dean protested, but he didn’t look convinced when he said it. 

“Really? ‘Cause we had a long chat last night, Dean. Then she took a bus to God knows where. And by now she’s probably already switched out her phone. She’s done Dean. Done with you. Done with … everything.”

Dean suddenly looked unsure. He stood up and rubbed the back of his neck in guilt. He looked around him then, looking as lost as Sam had ever seen him. Like he didn’t know where to go from here. Like he’d just suddenly lost everything he ever loved as quickly as it had appeared.

Sam scoffed again, incredulous at the fact that it took you leaving for Dean to see how good he’d had it. “You know what?” he said softly. “I was going to say that if you didn’t pull yourself together, I wouldn’t be sticking around either. But seeing you like this? I can tell that it wouldn’t really matter now that she’s gone.” He picked up his jacket and packed bag and headed towards the door. He’d wanted to go with you last night, but you’d insisted that you needed the space. He’d let you go but told you he’d keep the phone he had on him at all times when you were ready to call him. 

Sam opened the motel door, ready to start walking in any direction and never look back, but before he left, he turned to look at his brother one last time. Dean was sitting on the end of his bed. Hair a mess and his face buried in his hands. Sam opened his mouth and said, “My only regret is that I didn’t go with her and show her how a man is supposed to love her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got more fics at iavengesuperwholock.tumblr.com


	2. The Morning After 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a year and a half since the night at the motel. You've long moved past Dean and tried to find the happiness you'd once had with Sam. But what happens when Dean suddenly shows up again?

You sighed in contentment as you woke up. You kept your eyes closed though, basking in the warmth of the sun on your face and the body at your back. The weight of the arm across your waist kept you grounded and happier than you’d been since before Bobby’s death. 

The arm around your waist tightened and pulled you back against the body. You smiled as lips pressed against your neck. “Morning,” Sam said, his voice low and rumbly from sleep. 

Five months after you’d left him and Dean in that hotel room you’d finally gotten in touch with Sam. You insisted that you only wanted to know how the two of them were doing, but two days later he’d shown up at your motel room. Turned out that he’d tracked you down a month before and kept his distance until you were ready to see him. Apparently your phone call had meant you were ready. He was right, but you were too stubborn to ever admit it. You and Sam had carried on hunting the way you had before, but it didn’t take long before you realised that you really could still jump ship like you’d wanted too that night so long ago. Now here you were, nearly a year later. You hadn’t seen or talked to Dean since, though you knew that Sam still talked to him sometimes. They’d met up to go on a tough hunt a while ago. You’d offered to go and help, to try and bury the hatchet with Dean, but Sam said no. He wanted to tell Dean that the two of you were together now, and he wasn’t sure that it would go down well, he didn’t want Dean to hurt you again like he had so many times before. You weren’t sure how it went. Sam didn’t tell you about it when he got back, and you didn’t ask. Sometimes you wondered if he ever got up the courage to tell Dean. It didn’t matter anymore, though. Sam was in love with you, had been long before Bobby died. He treated you the way you wanted to be treated, the way you deserved to be treated. You knew that Dean was capable of treating a woman the way they were supposed to be treated, but the two of you had just gotten together at the wrong time. 

You rolled over to face Sam and touched your fingers to his jaw. He was smiling at you. It amazed you sometimes how happy he was just to be with you. You’d never realised just how much or just how long he had loved you until you finally told him that you loved him too. You kissed him then, slow and sweet. It was a long while before either of you got out of bed, but when you finally did you made breakfast together and you told him that you’d go to the local diner to see what you could dig up about the victims on the hunt you were doing. 

“I’ll stop by the morgue first, but I’ll meet you there and we can grab lunch,” he said. He kissed you and told you that he loved you before he left. Dean never had, not even on the good days. 

****

You smiled at the waitress behind the counter, she looked tired so you figured she could do with a nice customer for once. “Hey. I’m Agent Munroe. I was wondering if you could tell me a little about a woman named Melanie Bird?” you said, flashing your FBI badge when you she gave you a suspicious look.

“Y/N?” You turned around before the waitress could say anything. Dean was standing right behind you, looking more dumb founded than ever. 

“Dean? What are you doing here?” You gave the waitress behind you another quick smile and grabbed Dean by the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him into a nearby booth. 

“I found the story in the paper. Looks like vamps. Same MO as …” He didn’t finish his sentence, because he was talking about the vampires that had pulled the wool over your eyes  
over a year and a half ago. 

“Yeah. Same. Me and Sam, we were heading to Texas before we saw it.”

He nodded and looked down at his hands. They were entwined together on top of the table. “Sam told me about you two.”

“He said he was going to. I didn’t think he went through with it.”

“Oh, he did. I didn’t exactly take it well.” You looked at him and sat back in your chair, glancing at the door and wondering how rude it would be for you to run. “Relax, Y/N. I had time to think it over. I’m okay with it.”

“You are?” you said doubtfully. 

“Well, no. Not entirely. But, I want you to be happy, and I had plenty of time to think and realise that I wasn’t making you happy. I was doing the complete opposite actually.”  
You nodded. “I’m glad that’s the case.”

“Where is Sammy anyway?”

“At the morgue. He’ll be here for lunch.”

“Oh man. I’m grabbing something now, I’m starving,” Dean said, looking at the menu with big eyes.

You laughed. “Like a kid in a candy store.”

“Have you seen the burgers here?”

You watch him for a moment as he peruses the menu. “It’s good to see you again, Dean,” you said softly. 

He looked up at you. His eyes took in your face, as though committing it all to memory. You remembered he did that on your first date. You wondered if he’d really forgotten what you looked like. Then you wondered if Sam had already fallen in love with you way back then. “Yeah,” Dean said quietly. “You too. I missed you. I want you to come back.”

“Dean.”

“I didn’t mean to me. I just meant, I miss having you around. Sammy, too. I want to go back to hunting with you guys. Cas misses you too, you know. He says he keeps an eye on you, but he’s not sure if he’s welcome or not.”

“Of course he is. I miss seeing him too.”

“I tell him that. But you know how he is.” Dean smiled half-heartedly. You didn’t smile back.

You nodded. “I don’t know, Dean. I don’t know if things can just go back to the way they were.”

“I get it. I do. But you’ll think about it, won’t you?”

“Sure, Dean. I’ll think about it,” you lied. 

He’d wrapped a demand up in a plea, expecting that you’d see he’d realised the errors of his ways. But he hadn’t. If he had he would try and make things right. Try and change. Make amends for what he did. But that’s not what he was doing. He was telling you to go back with him, even though he wasn’t happy with you and Sam being together, even though he hadn’t even admitted what he’d done wrong. Even though he hadn’t said sorry for tearing your heart out and stomping all over it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got more fics at iavengesuperwholock.tumblr.com


End file.
